Jim Durham - My Fathers Writings: An Inspiring Journey Through Life, Love and a Lifetime of Memories

An Inspiring Journey through Life,
Love and a Lifetime of Memories

JIM DURHAM

Copyright 2012 Jim Durham

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-4903-3 (e)

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2012905287

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Balboa Press rev. date: 03/23/2012

Contents

Chapter Three
BOOK INTRODUCTIONS, OUTLINES AND ARTICLE IDEAS MY
DAD LEFT BEHIND

Chapter Seven
A FEW WORDS (ACTUALLY,
A CHAPTER) ABOUT THE POTENTIAL OF POETRY

I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me to writenot because the results are so great, but because I enjoy it so much. Your support was a real gift to me. This collection of writings only exists because a lot of people were willing to read early drafts and share their feedback. It also exists because Jennifer Broskey spent endless hours turning a mess of papers into a cohesive document. Clearly, my family and closest friends need to be thanked for putting up with my passionate embrace of the Universal Spirit and all possibilities. That is not always easy to be around.

When my dads plane crashed the writings they found in the general area of the wreckage included a book he was reading, story ideas scribbled on napkins and a hint that one of his greatest concerns was that his son (that would be me, Andrew) might not realize his creative potential. This hint came in the form of a handwritten note on the back of an old business card that said: If only his mother and I had given Andrew an A in life; he would be following his dreams. I have since learned that this is a reference to the inspirational words of Ben Zander, but more on that later.

So it makes perfect sense that I would seize the opportunity to pull together my fathers writings, and to share his insights and observations with a broad audience. Although being his son for 22 years has given me a pretty good understanding of my fathers thoughts and gifts, I decided to go beyond just collecting and publishing Dads ubiquitous piles of paper; I collaborated with some of his friends to get even more insight into his soul, and to more fully understand what some of his writings might mean.

Of course, it wasnt supposed to be like thisme writing about (and for) my father, with him gone at too early an age. But for whatever reasontribute, grief-management, holding on to memories, or maybe just to fulfill his expectations of me, I have given myself the task of assembling, sharing and, to some degree, interpreting my fathers words. Since some of the writings I found were little more than skeletons of ideas, I used my best judgment to explain his thinking and speculate on where he was going with them. Essentially I am just doing the work he posthumously assigned to me; an assignment for which I know he would give me an A no matter how it turns out.

This book is a collection of insights, essays, sermons, random chapters, and poems, captured on a plethora of notes scattered in and among drawers, files, folders, briefcases and, unfortunately, wreckage. The writings of my father are really just the thoughts and dreams of us all. He believed in trying to make his own life right so he could do more to help others. He worked toward perfection, but was learning to be okay with never getting there; he believed we are in the world to serve otherswhether as the general manager of a business, a salesman, a parent or a friend. But it is also clear to me that he did not learn until late in life that we need to serve ourselves as wellto say yes to our hearts and our intuition.

Now I understand why he was always trying to get me to read the stuff he read and the stuff he wrote. He used to send me large envelopes full of articles he had torn out of magazines and newspapers. We called it my bathroom reading . Now I also see what he saw in my own writing that gave him hope that I, too, might explore my creative side; that I might discover the marrow of life before the bone was spoiled. (That phrase was recorded as a quote in his scribbled notes, but I think it was just my dads interpretation of Thoreaus statement: I wanted to live deep and suck out all of the marrow of life.)

Ironic isnt it, that it was the death of my brother Casey 19 years ago that first opened my fathers eyes to all possibilitiesto his gifts of writing, preaching and inspiring. Now it is my fathers death that is leading me to explore my own creative potential. I hope, over time, that I can find less painful ways to open up my feelings to others the way Dad did. (One of his sermons ended with: Open your hearts to yourself and those you love, and you just might find your purpose and your joy. Amen.)

But all of what follows would be pretty confusing to those of you who didnt know the Watson clan if I dont give you just a little context. A simple roster, although we are quite a collection. Dad, as you will learn as you move through his writings, grew up in the wilds of Michigan, with no real understanding of the world outside of Baldwin. He was not even planning to go to college when a chance meeting with a guy who interviewed students for Harvard changed his life course. He still has a bit of that Midwestern hayseed in him, but he has found a way to be equally at home working in the biggest cities, in the highest levels of business. It is his life journey, I think, that informs his perspective, and gives him so much to say in what he writes.

He married my mom when he was in his twenties, but they were only together for about 7 years, so I grew up very much in two homes. While it was definitely challenging as a kid, I can now appreciate how much it has shaped my life to have known some adversity, uncertainty and conflict growing up. I hate the clich if it doesnt kill you it will make you stronger, but there is some truth in it. If you learn to adapt at an early age, those skills serve you well as you get older.

Then there is my special brother. Soon after Dad remarried an amazing woman named Nancy (who always treated me like her own son), they had twin boys, Casey and Brian. Casey had to undergo open heart surgery when he was just three days old, and was expected to live a normal life. But Casey died of a blood clot after a routine catheterization when he was not quite four months old. That was tragedy enough, but in the meantime they had learned that his brother Brian was born with an underdeveloped brain, so he was destined to a life of limited mental capacity! That is an awful lot to deal with, especially for a couple who had been married less than two years. But they beat the odds (most families who have a child die get divorced), and they are still together today. You will see as you read the many things Dad wrote how they managed to make it all work.